28 “COME DUCK SHOOTING WITH ME” 
mallards, at almost every bend in the river. Best of 
all Captain Joe said there were plenty of ducks on both 
marsh and lake with more coming in on their southern 
migration every day. 
The shooters were all out on the marsh engaged in the 
day’s sport when the launch reached the shack and tied 
up at the landing. It was after four o’clock before the 
sportsmen began straggling in, most of their boats carry- 
ing the day’s limit of ducks. Jimmy,my guide for several 
years, was one of the last to arrive. The gentleman he 
had guided the past week was going home in the morn- 
ing and it was my good fortune to again have Jimmy as 
guide, during my stay. 
Jimmy did not think very highly of my suggestion 
that we start at four o’clock and have a try at the 
early morning flight. ‘‘It’s nothing but enthusiasm,” 
he said, ‘‘getting up at such an early hour. The morning 
flight is over before sunrise, just as the evening flight 
begins after sunset, and it’s against the law to shoot 
ducks before sunrise or after sunset. But it’s your first 
morning and we will start at four o’clock if you say so. 
It will take us two hours to row down to the south sink 
box where you want to shoot and that means it will be 
sunrise before we get there.”’ 
Half an hour before the first gray dawn of the follow- 
ing morning found us rowing down the river towards 
the east lake. It was pitch dark and very chilly but 
rowing is fine exercise to keep off the cold. Carp of all 
sizes were rising around the boat, not making merely 
rings in the water, but jumping their length in the frosty 
air and falling back with a mighty splash. From the 
noise they made some of the carp were champion heavy- 
weights. Now and then as we approached nearer the 
lake a low quack from some sleepy mallard hidden in the 
